A Close and Personal Friend
by the13thgraduate
Summary: An Alternative Take on Xena: Warrior Princess. Xena, in first person, recollects her bloody past and the girl from Potedia who changed everything, and showed her true love. However, there is an awful truth both the girl and Xena share, and it is one that Xena has trouble accepting.


_My first attempt at writing Xena fanfiction, and it deals with mature content and it's dark. If you are under 18, I strongly suggest you stop reading right at this sentence._

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I suppose I always wanted a friend.

As a child, my mother used to scold me for talking to myself out in public. She was afraid that others would believe me to be cursed with madness. I was a child, and didn't know at the time that madness ran in our family, insanity in the blood.

Everyone in Amphipolis knew of course, they knew of my mother's brother, a man whose name I scarcely care to recollect who killed himself with a knife. He stabbed his stomach straight on, claiming live worms were inside him, slithering through his intestines, and he was shouting that he had to get them out before they crawled inside his brain.

And mother's grandfather ate his own clothes. It doesn't sound that bad, until one realizes how his body was found: naked by the side of a river, his brown eyes wide open in fear, his insides shoved with the articles of clothing he wore that same day. He choked on his shirt. He suffocated. It was probably a slow death, one I wouldn't want to personally repeat.

There was also my father, arriving drunk one night with enflamed red eyes, shouting that I had to be sacrificed to the God of War. I remember that night. I was seven solstices. And it was raining. The horses were awfully frightened, they kept whining loudly that I woke up. My brothers shared a room further up the hall, it was larger and roomier than my bedroom, but mine had a perfect view of the stables. Even as a child I loved horses. My favorite was a grey one I had named 'Hyperion.' He was a large, beautiful, specimen of a beast. He was the first animal I truly loved. And when I awoke that night to the noises of the horses, I peered out my window and into the stables. Father was calling out for me, soaking wet from the rain, waving his sword madly. Perhaps I should've been worried, or frightened, but instead I was puzzled. Why would my own father wish harm upon me?

And then I saw what father did. Outstretched, by his feet, lay Hyperion. At first I thought he was sleeping, but his body was unnaturally bent, his legs sticking up in the air and mangled, twisted. Dark liquid was oozing out of my beloved horse. And something was sticking out of my horse. A stick? A sword? A shovel?

"Hyperion!" I shouted, hoping my father would help my horse, "Father! Hyperion is hurt!"

It was only later when I discovered that my father killed my horse. I will never know why exactly he did that. But, he did.

I do not know why, but I regress to a time before father killed the beautiful grey-back. When I was first learning to how to ride, and I was so frighteningly afraid of falling, especially in front of my brothers. But when father held me, and told me everything would be alright, I felt no fear anymore. And I learned to ride on Hyperion. He was such a great, big, gentle beast.

I loved him so much.

I remember brushing his coat twice a day, whispering to him that we would be together forever. He only snorted and ate his carrots. And now I remember how he looked, sprawled upon my father's feet, lifeless.

Why is forever such a short time?

My mother soon barged into my room, scooping me up into her arms. Apparently her and my brother Toris had boarded the tavern so that father would not get in. It was a scrambled, half-good job at best. But please remember, they worked quickly and frantically on such a short notice.

I remember mother reaching for an axe that she kept behind the counter for when customers would get too rowdy. She instructed Toris to keep me and my younger brother hidden under one of the tables. Lyceus was crying. He was afraid of dying. I wasn't. I found an odd curiosity with the whole aspect of death.

Lyceus wrapped his pudgy arms around me, whispering for me to protect him. I promised him I always would. And behind the two of us, Toris wrapped his arms around both of our shoulders, stating that he would protect the pair of us.

Even at a young age, I thought the idea of Toris protecting me from anything was laughable, but at that moment, I did feel an ounce of security. He rubbed my shoulder, silently telling me he loved me. Did I love him though? Hm…

(After a moment) Yes, yes I do believe I loved Toris. I know I loved Lycues, and I know I loved mother, but there were times when I wasn't so sure about Toris.

Sorry, I digress…

I just remember the splash of lightning in the room when father barged in through the wooden doors, shouting out, "XENA!"

He immediately began flipping over tables. I shoved my hand in Lyceus's mouth to stifle his whimpers. Toris held onto us tighter, closing his eyes and doing his best to remain calm. My eyes couldn't have been wider. I was even a bit excited.

Death.

I was going to die, I could feel it in the air. The electricity was buzzing around us. The little hairs on my arms were standing straight up. My heart was thumping against my chest anxiously. And through it all, I found myself wanting father to find us. I suppose deep down, I wanted him to kill me.

But the poor bastard didn't get the chance. He had spotted one of us, maybe all of us, huddled together under one of the tables like a batch of motherless kittens. He darted to us, screaming wildly. And then he wasn't screaming at all.

Mother had struck the killing blow, and father fell like an oak tree, the axe protruding from his back. As father let out his dying breath, I looked up to see mother's reaction. She was visibly shaking, her eyes wide in shock. I then looked over to see that Toris still had his eyes clamped shut, whispering prayers to Hera. And Lyceus's face was the picture of horror. The boy was trembling to the point of convulsions, tears wetting his plump cheeks. And me? I was mildly disinterested.

The danger was over. It had passed.

The only interesting part was the odd patterns of father's blood as it seeped from his body. Prying myself away from Toris, I wandered closer to the dead man, and pressed my hand to the blood. I wanted to touch it. And it was warm. It was a deep red. And now it was on my hands.

Mother practically ignored me as she tried to reach Lyceus, her favorite offspring. Toris thought Lyceus was the favorite because he was the youngest. But, I knew the truth. It was because Lyceus was Lyceus. Toris was often stupid and brash, and I was wild and brash. Lyceus was kind and patient. That was the difference. So I watched as my youngest brother pulled away from mother, terrified of her actions. But soon he gave in to her soothing voice, along with Toris, and mother clutched onto her boys tightly, telling them everything was alright.

And what was I doing as all this transpired?

I was playing in father's blood, creating odd shapes with it.

As time forged forward, Toris was allowed to be a blacksmith's apprentice. Mother wanted him to have a trade. And Lyceus expressed an interest in farming. Mother encouraged him. I expressed an interest in fighting. Mother nearly killed me- figuratively of course. She complained that I was blossoming into a beautiful young maiden and such beauty was given to me so that I could attract a fine mate from the opposite sex. I didn't see what she saw. I was too tall, my hair was too black, and I hated my eyes. I was the only one in the whole damn town with blue eyes, and they always gave me up. I couldn't walk down the street without some idiot shouting, "Hey Xena!" And then he would whisper to his buddy, "That's Xena. And you know what? My children shall have blue eyes like hers!"

The first time I heard a comment like that, I broke the boy's arm. It was an accident… I only meant to sprain him. I was always strong for my age.

My fascination for death was growing as far and wide as my natural strength. It started with animals. No, I know what you're thinking. I did not kill animals for sport, only for supper. What I mean is, when I was thirteen solstices, a madman started leaving the bodies of dead rodents everywhere outside people's homes. The town, my family included, was growing fearful. But once again, I was excited.

In retrospect, perhaps I was too excited. Some in the town began to suspect it was me. My own mother was among them. But, after a few weeks of catching suspicious glares and fretful stares, the true culprit was caught: An old man, suffering from forgetful thoughts. He hardly had a hearing before he was hanged right outside the tavern.

I often asked his corpse what drove him to kill animals. I didn't understand killing animals unless one was starving. I understood killing humans, humans were always expendable, but to kill a poor defenseless rat? Unbelievable.

Around this time, Toris and Lyceus struck up a friendship with a boy they met in school. Perhaps I too could've been friends with him, if mother had let me attend schooling. She didn't. She said that she could offer all the support and guidance that a school wouldn't teach me. She would teach me to cook, to sew, to keep house, how to obey my husband and so forth. I casually mentioned if she would also be teaching me how to 'wield an axe 101' because that was the only lesson I had any interest in. She slapped me across the face so hard my left cheek stayed red for three days.

But back to Toris and Lyceus's friend, Maphias. He was quite good looking. He was a year older than Toris, with dark hair and darker eyes. He had that good, squared chin and solid shoulders. He was tall and brimming with charm. And yes, surprisingly I fell for him.

He was the son of one of our town elders who was in the council. When mother learned I had taken up with him, I expected her to be upset. She wasn't. The woman was actually pleased. So pleased, I was tempted to break things off with Maphias just because mother wasn't agitated with him or my philandering.

At night, I would sneak out of my bedroom window, make my way noiselessly to the barn, saddle up my father's old horse, Aphrodite (the joke was that my father could claim he "rode" Aphrodite), and make my way to Maphias's family farm. I won't make a big deal out of it, but it was on one of these treks where I lost my virginity. I half-expected Maphias to toss me to the side after it was lost, but instead I found myself pleasantly surprised that he still cared for me.

In him, I thought I had found more than a lover. I believed him to be a friend.

My passion for fighting dulled after three seasons of being with Maphias, as well as my "studies" with mother. After burning everything I ever cooked, being unable to keep the tavern clean for a whole candlemark, and punching a few of the rowdier customers in the face a few times, mother decided that perhaps my "skills" would be better served doing something else.

It was Lyceus who suggested I be a healer.

Toris and mother believed him to be mad, and I thought he was simply foolish. All I ever did besides get into scrapes with my bare fists from time to time (nowhere as near than with my time before Maphias), was fish. I even had a special fishing rod.

Wait… Did I mention me and Lyceus and our competition to catch Solaris? Well, we both had been trying for years to catch the biggest fish in the lake, Solaris… I suppose this is just a trivial detail, but I loved fishing with Lyceus. His green eyes were the picture of the sea, well, what I imagined the sea to look like at the time. I was once an avid scroll reader in my youth. I almost told mother that I wanted to write a few stories down, but luckily I didn't. I'm not that creative anyway. But Lyceus was. He was the little story-teller in the family. And that's how I'll always remember my brother, sitting at the corner of the tavern, his blond head of curls moving animatedly along with his hands as he told stories to strangers. Those who passed by often thought he was bard. He wasn't, he even said he wasn't. He felt that a bard was a low position to be in society, and he rightly maintained that he was a farmer.

Lyceus dragged me to the edge of town where Levin, the healer, resided. He was many solstices, at least sixty. After his wife passed on, with Hades no doubt, he lived out his remaining days in the hut, only venturing out for food.

I felt bad for the old man, and soon began visiting him just to give him company. But, before I realized it, I was keeping his records and then assisting him on jobs. There were rumors that he was grooming me to become the next healer. This was unheard of, mainly because I was a female. No one in Amphipolis ever saw a female healer, and yet, there I was, healing others.

For the first time in my life, I began to feel a real purpose in my life. I believed I had found my true calling: It was to help others. Since I had joined Levin, I had delivered three babies- all healthy, prolonged the life of an old woman with the coughing fits, and stitched together five men from bar brawls. I did other minor work such as physicals and children checking, but felt that wasn't nearly as important as delivering children from their mother's wombs. But there was one case that haunted me. It was a small boy. To this day, neither myself nor Levin knew what was wrong with him, only that his throat was enflamed and water seeped from his eyes. I thought it was an allergic reaction, but Levin was more fearful. He ushered the boy's mother and me away, and wrapped himself from head to foot in cloth, examining the boy as if he had the plague. Then suddenly, the boy dropped dead… or so Levin told me. I suspected the healer may have sped up the boy's introduction to Hades, but I never said a word. Afterwards, Levin demanded that the body by burned as far away from Amphipolis as we could manage. That season I had the feeling we narrowly missed an epidemic.

I wasn't the same after that. Granted, I was hardly sound of mind before then. But after the incident, the world seemed different to me, colder- but it didn't grow darker. I suppose it was always black for me, and there isn't a shade of color darker than black. Maybe that's why the color became my favorite.

Maphias didn't like it. The change in me. He said I wasn't myself. I remember telling him, "On the contrary, I'm more myself than when we met."

And then there was a change in _him_. I told him I didn't like it, and that he was becoming different. To which, to his credit, he told me flatly, "Actually Xena, I'm the same as I ever was. Didn't you ever notice before?"

And then it grew worse.

He slapped me.

He pinched my rear in public.

He often stated I was a "whore" and he was doing me a favor by agreeing to marry me.

And I took it all like a woman.

I didn't lift a finger against him, because he was my betrothed. But it burned inside. I felt like a traitor to my own sense of self-worth. And that's how it went for a few weeks. When I didn't please Maphias, he would hit me. At first mother and Toris insisted it was my fault. Mother always said I had an unsteady tongue, and that I earned my beatings. Only Lyceus saw things differently. He threatened Maphias on my behalf.

Maphias responded by destroying the small acre of wheat Lyceus managed to farm. He was devastated. I was repulsed. I called off the wedding… and then I snapped. Almost as if someone or something else was controlling my body, I rode out to Maphias's farm on the pretense of "making up" and "having sex." He arrogantly stated that he knew I would "come around" as all women usually did. And then, when he wasn't looking, I stabbed his rib. He was completely taken off-guard, shocked.

Then I gave him a few good punches that was only the warm up for my knockout blow.

I then stripped Maphias down to his birthday suit, tied him to a pole in the center of town, and beat him like a disobedient dog.

I did it at night.

All suspected me, only few knew for certain, Maphias among them. But I knew he wouldn't admit it was me. How could he? His pride wouldn't let him admit that a girl barely reaching her sixteenth solstice humiliated him, the son of an elder.

As for those who suspected me… they were proven wrong once, when the old man with dementia killed the rats. They kept their suspicions quiet, for fear that they were wrong once more.

I expected Toris and mother to disown me after the incident. They didn't, not completely. Toris was sore, and refused to speak to me. He felt a woman's place was to take her man's abuse. I was fine with him not speaking to me. I never cared much for what society wanted in a 'woman's place.' To me, if Toris couldn't look passed Maphias's charm and status to see the swine that was terrorizing his siblings then he was a poor older brother indeed. Mother's reaction was a bit different. She made me my favorite courses of dinner for a whole week and stopped talking my ear off about marriage. I once heard a woman in a shop ask her if she ever intended to push me into another relationship. My mother's words were, "Xena will get to it when she gets to it."

I never loved my mother as much as I did in that moment.

Things were starting to come together, slowly but surely. And then Cortese came.

After him, my life just became flashes of anger. The truly important details were that he raided us several times, and while most of the townspeople were content to hide in the mountains like scared rabbits, Toris among them, I did something I never thought I would do: I picked up a sword. It was the first time I ever did, and I prayed to Ares, the God of War, to guide us.

Levin, the healer, was disgusted with me. He told me my place was to save lives, not take them. He believed in something called 'the One-God' and told me stories of archangels, Raphiel, Michael and Gabriel. He told me that the greatest power of all were forgiveness and love.

I didn't care much for stories. I had a town to save, my livelihood. And so I convinced others to drop their shovels in favor for swords. Lyceus was among them. When my mother first saw me in a battle uniform, she looked ashamed. When she saw my younger brother, she looked terrified. She had a right to be… Lyceus died.

I killed him. Not directly, but my sword nearly sliced off the head of a boy of fifteen. He looked so much like Lyceus that I let him live. Only for him to turn around and kill my brother.

After I mutilated the boy of fifteen, and successfully murdered Cortese and his men, I strung up their bodies all along Amphipolis, as a warning to future warlords to stay away. I took special interest in the boy of fifteen's body, decapitating him, splitting him open like a walnut right down the middle and decorating the other bodies with his intestines. And when I was through enacting my vengeance, I went mad with grief.

Did I mention he was alive when I took out his small intestine? He bled out before I could finish though. Didn't matter, I finished anyway.

Horrified of what I had done, mother banished me from Amphipolis as the greatest funeral pyre that was ever known to man or woman alike was thrown.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. It also takes a village to tear down that same child.

I was lost.

And worse, I started hearing the voices. Voices of the past, voices in my head. They laughed at me sometimes, cried because of me. But they all hated me. I felt it.

I drifted in and out of life like a ghost. I did many things, turned pirate, turned to the Valkyrie, turned to the Amazons, and I caused destruction on all fronts. At first they were all accidents, as if I was cursed to take life. I didn't mean to kill so many, it just happened. But soon my name was synonymous with death, and instead of feeling sorry for myself and dwindling away, I embraced this new image.

The voices grew stronger and I became what they told me I was all along.

A damnation.

A freak of nature.

I became a monster.

So there I was, returning to Greece and tearing straight at her heart. I was sick, infected by an illness of the soul. It was Anger and Hatred, and I was happily blinded by it.

Eventually I found a cure to the voices.

Port- and tons of it. And the strongest the brewers made. I usually drank 12 mugs a day, and started my day off with 3 right off the club.

Me and my men, the few lost souls that there was, collected in our shared misery of life. And every time I closed my eyes, every time I dared relax, every time I took a life, I saw Lyceus. He always looked the same- horrified at what I had become. He looked at me the same way he looked at Father that night he came to sacrifice me to The God of War, shouting for me.

I suppose I was truly my father's daughter.

Times like that I feared the voices would rise with a fury, so I drank more on those days.

They never came.

There was so much blood that my skin would at times be stained a light pink. And in the deepest of nights, I would cry myself to sleep, drowning in my depression and sorrow. I was once a healer's apprentice. What had I become now?

And then came the day when my own men turned on me. I can't say I was surprised it happened. I was more surprised it took so long.

We demolished an entire town, Cirra. I don't know why I picked Cirra. I didn't really know why I picked any of the towns. I suppose I just always picked the ones that reminded me most of Amphipolis. Looking back, in my sick head, I was destroying my home town over and over again, distraught in how they abandoned me when I only wanted to help them. But then again, help like mine is only a curse.

I was so depraved back then, I used Cirra as a fun exercise for the men and myself, to keep our muscles moving, our appetite for destruction fresh. They tore through the homes on horseback, setting the town ablaze in red fire. It was night when we struck, which made the ablaze village seem almost holy as it burned brightly in the darkness.

There was this one girl, young… eleven I would guess. She was scared, hiding behind her sister and mother. Earlier my men had decapitated all the men's heads and hoisted their headless bodies on pikes for all the world to see just how evil I truly was. So I knew, watching the three women, they were defenseless. The first one I took was the mother. I tied her up and I whipped her repeatedly, screaming at her the most profane things. In a way, I was screaming at myself. I was screaming at how I not only destroyed my own future, but countless others. But the mother didn't survive like I would've, and she died there, tied to a pillar in her own home, half naked and shaking from the repeated blows of my whip.

The next was the oldest girl. Dark eyes and dark hair, this one. Yet she had an intensity the mother didn't have. This one had the will to live, I recognized it. So I took the challenge and broke it. I grabbed a club and beat her repeatedly. She was dead in less than a minute. I suppose her will wasn't too strong after all.

And finally, the little girl. Dark eyes and bright hair… I asked her for her name. So depraved I was, I stroked her cheek as I asked her to say it slowly. She told me, "Callisto." For some reason, I had difficulty killing this one. I couldn't do it as violently as the first two, so I dragged her to the edge of town where there lay a batch of quicksand and threw her in. She didn't struggle. She accepted her fate. And the last thing I saw were her dark eyes as she told me, "I forgive you."

That drove me nuts, figuratively speaking of course.

As for what my men saw, weakness, in me… in my resolve. They saw that I couldn't kill the girl. They saw how her three words tore me to pieces. And so they attacked me as soon as we left the remains of Cirra.

We set up camp a few miles east of the ruins of the town. The flames stretched high into the sky, but there was not a single scream from the town. Why should there be? We killed everyone in it.

But that didn't stop them. Yes, the voices in my head. They were there, unidentifiable whispers of my past, coming to haunt me. Sometimes I could make out the voices, mother or grandmother, telling me to finish a chore, or Lyceus laughing. Most of the time it was people pleading for their lives right before I slaughtered them like dogs.

I had to silence the voices, so of course I turned to the strongest port in my storage compartments. I drank heavily that night, just wishing they would all just shut up and die, and leave me alone in my misery. And so I pulled myself on top of my horse, actually believing that maybe I could outrun my demons. Maybe I could run off somewhere far away. But there is no magical hideaway for me. There's just death.

And that was when the men took advantage of my severely weakened and drunken state.

The first was Darphus, my second in command. He struck a blow so fierce to the back of my head that I swear I heard bells ringing as I toppled off my horse.

The next was Theodorus. Grabbing a club he acquired from the town, he rained down a heavy blow, cracking my ribs. I remember the sharp stinging of my newly broken bones piercing my tender muscle tissue as the rest of my men joined in for fun. What happened next I'd rather not describe, but beating me wasn't the only thing those bastards did.

When they were through with me, they dragged my body to the mouth of a cave they thought was occupied by a bear. They, pleased at a job well done, mounted their horses and rode off, with Darphus as their new commander.

Meanwhile I, covered in bruises coupled with my having difficulty breathing, simply passed out.

That was it.

My miserable existence was over. It was a fitting end… but that's not what happened. I can't tell you what day of the week it was, or what candlemark in the day, but it was bright when I came to.

I felt a warm cloth on my head, and low humming of a tune I hadn't heard since I was a child. My first instinct was to grab my chakram. But I didn't have it. The bastards took all my equipment when they left me for dead.

I grudgingly opened my eyes to find a girl in a blue peasant dress fussing over a campfire, cooking. I wanted to shout at her, warn her of what I was. I wanted to thank her for obviously saving me. And a small piece of me wanted to kill her, for she saw me weak. I did nothing of the above. I simply passed out again.

The next time I awoke, I had a massive headache. And, it was night. Struggling, I sat up, wanting to see if I could find the girl. Instead, I found nothing. The girl was gone, the campfire was gone, the warm cloth was gone, the food was gone… I must have imagined her.

I couldn't walk, because of my legs were a mangled mess of what was left of me, so I crawled toward a tree. I dragged myself, numbness the only true emotion I felt, besides the physical stinging and torment.

As I reached the tree, I heard a voice from behind me, "What happened?"

I jumped.

I jumped so fast I think I felt ten new bruises and welts expose themselves to my body. My neck tried to move to see who it was, but there was no need. She crawled over to me, her small hands resting themselves on my cheeks as she gently turned my head to look at her. I only had one good eye, but I daresay, she was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

Her hair was as bright as the girl I threw in the quicksand. Her eyes every bit as green as my beloved brothers… and her smile, the picture of innocence. I could only tell her one thing, "Go away."

It was for her own good.

"I can't leave you." She whispered. She then gestured down, "Look at you… you'll die."

"Let me."

I honestly wished death at that point. I welcomed Tartarus. It was all my decrepit self deserved. But this girl had other ideas. Now, I didn't know what her plans were, if she needed some sort of bodyguard, if she was running away from home or going back to it, or if she had an ulterior motive, all I know was that she was with me and she was feeding me berries. I wanted to ask about the campfire and the soup, but I was too weak to really say much. I just accepted her meager offerings and fell asleep on her lap, letting her hand soothe me back to deepest slumber in Morpheus's Realm. It would be a sleep filled with pain and the screaming of those I sent to Hades personally, but my body wasn't much good for anything else at the time.

Once again I awoke, and again I was alone. I was beginning to think myself growing mad, hallucinating this girl, thinking I took a bigger hit to the back of my head than I realized until I heard a rustling in the bushes nearby. I don't know how I knew it, but I did- it was her.

She looked almost comical carrying so many pieces of wooden logs by herself. She then dumped them on the ground before me and dusted off her hands, smiling at me triumphantly, "Got them!"

I stared at her out of my good eye (I couldn't really open my other one). Who was this girl? She seemed too happy to be real.

As if she read my mind, she plopped herself by me, holding out her hand. "Gabrielle!", She chirped.

I stared down at her hand. When I looked back up, I saw her staring back at me expectantly, hopefully. I don't know why I did it, but I forced my hand to meet hers as I croaked, "Xe-na."

I waited for her to withdraw her hand when she recognized my name. Instead she took it twice as easily, smiling happily, "Good to meet you, Xena! Where are you from?"

"Nowhere…"

She thought I was joking. She told me everybody was from somewhere. I told her I wasn't everybody. She thought this was real funny, and stated, "So I guess your homeless, huh?" I shrugged. In a way, she was right. I didn't have a home. I didn't have a place to belong to. I was a drifter, a murderer and a thief. I was a beaten woman. I was the victim and the perpetrator all rolled into one.

She happily told me she was from Potedia.

I was rather surprised. When I was first starting out as a ruthless warlord, the very first village I attacked was Potedia. We didn't even leave the trees standing. We leveled it and left, taking the women and selling them to the highest bidder. So if she somehow escaped, or if by some miracle her family was spared, she had to know of me, of my name and reputation. But if she did, she pretended not to know.

She made a small fire, and I watched her as she made it. She was terrible, the girl couldn't rub two sticks together. And just as I was getting fed up and almost volunteered myself to help her, she did it. She lightly patted my knee, those gorgeous green eyes of hers twinkling, "Toldja I could do it!"

For the next week, we stayed in that spot, hardly moving away. When it rained, we went to the cave, when the sun was high in the sky, we stayed by our tree, talking. Actually, she did most of the talking, I just listened. She eagerly told me story after story, and I didn't have the heart to tell her I knew each and every one already. I couldn't shatter her happiness, even if I did so many others.

I often wondered why she didn't leave me like so many others. She simply responded, "Where I go, you go."

Oddly, that was good enough for me.

When I was well enough, we traveled east. It was just the two of us on foot, and her twirling a makeshift staff that we found along the way. I didn't want her to know, but I stole a few supplies we might need along the way, including some clothes for myself. She asked me where I procured the artifacts of our survival. I lied to her and told her I had them stashed away. She didn't seem to believe me.

She just stared at me, her expression unreadable. Feeling guilty, I told her the truth. She nodded, and accepted that for us to get started with our life, there were certain ethical lines we had to cross, but as long as we realized that they were wrong and that we owed the people that we were "borrowing from", then is wasn't so bad. So, in other words, we had to pay them back. Meanwhile, I couldn't believe it. I used to kill people for fun and now some five foot something blond girl in a blue peasant dress was making me feel guilty for stealing.

I would've been upset, but the odd thing was that I wasn't. With her by my side, my darkness receded and I acknowledged my wrongdoing and promised to pay them back. Gabrielle and I split up. She seemed very familiar with the area and insisted on going to town, where she could work as a bard while I stayed behind and worked for the family I had originally taken supplies from. I wasn't too keen on the idea. I didn't want us to split up, but she said we would cover more ground that way. I asked her again where the town was, and she pointed at the path we were on, and I followed her finger to where the sun was setting, "That way, a little yonder." She turned and looked at me, pleading with me, "I can take care of myself, y'know. I've been doing it for some time now."

Something didn't feel right about this. I didn't want her to leave me. Over the last few days I had grown quite attached to the little bard, and desperately wanted her to stay with me.

Looking back, I was afraid how the farmers would perceive my offering to help them with their work after they knew who I was. Gabrielle suggested that I tell them I was her. I told her that was a lie, and wasn't it "unethical?" She smiled that smile of hers, shrugging, "Then tell them you really are, you big 'ole scaredy cat."

I rolled my eyes, smirking. Gods I loved her, and I didn't even know why. She then took my hand in hers and whispered, "Look, I'll only be a few miles away. If you need me, I'll come."

"How would you know?" I asked.

She smiled, crinkling her nose, "I have many skills."

That.

Was.

My.

Line.

And I had to smile again. Maybe I said it before when I wasn't paying attention and she caught it, and reused it. Maybe she came up with it on her own. Either way, it cemented to me that this was the one I was meant to follow in life.

She handed me her staff, telling me, "Here. When you get lonely, just think of me." I looked at the staff, and an overwhelming feeling of completeness came over me. I looked back down at her, nodding, "I will always think of you, Gabrielle."

I watched her leave in the direction of the town, her feet bobbing up and down as she walked. The only thing that quieted the pain of seeing her go, was knowing she would come back to me. Her figure soon disappeared, and I continued to wait there, lingering a few more minutes before finally heading to the farmer's home, to work.

The farmers I was now obligated to help were a nice elderly couple. They asked me for my name. I told them, "Gabrielle."

They had a handful of daughters, but all were married now with lives of their own. They had a dog with them, a black one. I remember he always licked my hand or my knee when he saw I had food. I learned this was his code for, 'I'm hungry- Feed me.'

The farmers didn't do much. Grains and beans, with few chickens and fewer cows. Still, I helped as much as I could. I stayed with them for a while, gaining strength and growing stronger. One morning, the woman brightly told me as she cooked up some eggs that soon I would be healthy enough to travel without my walking stick. I found this mildly amusing, seeing as how it was Gabrielle's stick, not mine. But, I did know what she meant. Since the real Gabrielle had left, I had caught myself relying on it more and more, using it to walk here or there. I suppose it was a metaphorical message, one in how much I leaned on Gabrielle to help me, and now that she was no longer there, I leaned on that staff of hers.

But I was fine with it. I had helped the farmers collect enough money for a season and now I had enough for both me and my companion. I would soon be leaving the nice couple and quickly be rejoining my friend in the town down the road.

I explained this to the elderly woman who seemed worried for some reason. I couldn't fathom why. When her husband came in from milking the cow (a chore he and I rotated on every other day), she pulled him to the side and they whispered to one another in the other room.

Curious didn't begin to cover it. What were they talking about? When the curtain that divided the living quarters and the kitchen opened, I expected to see both of them enter, but I only saw the old man. He seemed concerned for me. It was in his dark eyes.

"Gabrielle," he started, nodding to me, "Um, I don't know how to quite put this, but- uh- I'm afraid you've been duped."

"Duped?" I repeated, oddly calm as I chewed on a slice of buttered bread.

He nodded, looking every bit as uncomfortable as I should've felt, "There is no town down that road. It's a dead end… it leads to a cliff."

I kept on eating, in denial. Gabrielle wouldn't have lied to me. Gabrielle knew what she was doing. And as sure as I knew my own name, Gabrielle would come back to me. And no one, not some farmer or his wife, could tell me any different.

Trying not to disclose my agitation, I nodded in agreement with his assessment. However, that evening I made it clear that I was going to the town to go pick up my friend. They seemed troubled that I hadn't listened to them. Reluctantly, they let me leave, the woman packing me some supplies and food. I barely made it to the fence line, their home acres behind me when I heard that angelic voice, "I was just coming to see you!"

I turned my head, smiling from ear to ear, "How'd it go in town?"

She shrugged, the scowl on her face making her seem adorably cute, "I spent all the money I made on one bath and tavern costs!"

I couldn't help but laugh, handing her back her staff, "I told you to stay with me."

She rolled her eyes, taking the staff between her hands before twirling it idly, shrugging, "Next time, I'll listen to you."

I shook my head, letting her lead me away from the direction of the town, "You always say that, but you never do."

"I know." She grinned, "Aren't I just terrible?"

"Speaking of terrible," I began, "The old farming couple told me there's no town in the direction you ran off to."

"Really?" She paused, turning around and giving me a baffled expression. She scratched her chin, telling me, "Well it wasn't much of one. About seven buildings give or take. Not much you can build when you're by a cliff, y'know?"

I nodded. On the edge of a cliff was poor foundation to build a town, you never know when it's going to collapse.

"So," She happily changed the subject, gently flicking my arm with her walking stick, "How much money did you earn?"

"Enough…" I mused, before grinning wickedly, "for me." I couldn't help myself when I slung my arm around her, pulling her closer to me, "I don't know what I'm going to do with you…"

Gabrielle giggled, "You wouldn't know what to do without me."

I shrugged, smirking, "Well for one thing, I'd have more money and food. I swear, you eat more than I do!"

"I need to keep up my strength." She announced with a sly smile.

I rolled my eyes, "For what? You want no husband, no children… you wait around and wander around with me. I protect you from the evils of the woods-"

Gabrielle shook her head, "I thought those mushrooms were poisonous!" She was referring to an earlier occurrence, when we were first starting out. I could still imagine her, yelping at a pile of mushrooms, screeching as to how we were going to die once she learned those were the ones I collected for the broth she wanted to make for me.

I laughed, "And I saved us from the big, ugly things." Yes, I remember wasting precious daylight convincing her that they were okay. I even tried to feed the stupid stuff to a rabbit, and once the rabbit didn't die, she let me eat it. I swear, not even my own mother was as picky as to what I ate. The way how mom saw it, if we ate something poisonous and we died, we died. There were worst things to worry about, such as learning how to live and support ourselves. If we were dead, then the burden of living was over.

She pulled a face and stuck her tongue out at me. I did the same. And then, at the same time, we broke into a fit of giggles.

"You!" She chuckled, "Are evil."

"I used to be." I answered, honestly enough, peering down at her. She seemed genuinely happy to be with me. My heart ached. I never realized how much I missed the company of someone who genuinely liked me for me, someone who I felt attached to, connected with, a friend. Someone who would love me unconditionally, despite my past, my temper and faults. That someone was Gabrielle. And looking down at her, I felt as though I had waited my whole life for her. I didn't care where she was going or where she had been any more than she did with me. All that mattered was that we were finally together.

I then looked around. We were headed toward a dense forest and the sky was already a navy blue hue.

"We should probably set up camp." I started. I felt her wiggle free from my grasp as she bounced to a tree, "Ooo! Ooo! Let's settle down here and have a picnic and look up at the stars! Oh Xena, can we, _please_?!" That last word had so much stress in it that I gave in. We had a small picnic me and her, with our cheese and bread, under the stars.

The days passed quickly with her. Sometimes I felt like I was living a dream come true. Together we were like to two teenagers exploring the world, for it was all at our fingertips.

Everywhere we went, people stared at us. Gabrielle was a bit nervous about it, but I assured her that everything would be fine. I had a feeling it was because we were two women traveling together without the company of men to, well, keep us "safe". But I didn't tell Gabrielle about my suspicions. It was trivial anyhow. But back to our travels, there was one time when we stopped an up and coming wanna-be warlord from taking over a small village, there was another time when we helped a family overcome a sickness. There was even a time that Gabrielle helped me set up traps to stop slavers from taking the women of a small fishing community. I do recollect that instance, because it was there when a local store owner who also happened to be the mayor awarded me with something I had thought long and forgotten, my chakram.

He said that men from Darphus's camp sold it to him some moons back. I suppose the weapon meant that little to Darphus. Though, a part of me thought he would have at least kept it as a trophy. I was a bit insulted that he didn't. Anyways, the store owner/ mayor originally had it as his star item, the 'long lost chakram of the notorious Warrior Princess', and used it to lure people into his shop. But now that I (and Gabrielle I reminded him, though he just seemed to ignore that) had saved his daughters, wife and sister from being sold as slaves, he decided to present it to me as a gift. The rightful weapon returned to it's appropriate owner.

I was glad to have it back. I felt it gave me a bit of stability, though it's connection to me was bloody to say the least.

I wanted to have it close by me at all times. And it made me feel good, and perhaps a little too much like the old me. Gabrielle began to notice how I was slipping. I was cursing, eating raw meats again, and much quicker to suggest killing our enemies instead of sending them off to prison or maiming them. Gabrielle grew worried that the chakram was "doing things" to me. I told her I was as much myself as ever. She didn't believe me.

And then it happened.

The night I nearly killed her. I was thinking of a way to slaughter yet another warlord, when Gabrielle went out to collect some firewood for our camp. I heard rustling in the bushes, her usual words of, "Ow!" or "Darn!" and without thinking, so upset that she was distracting me, I flung the chakram right at where I thought she was at. The moment I let it go, I realized what I had done, and panic and horror gripped me as I screamed, "Gabrielle! DUCK!"

I heard the firewood drop, thumping against the earth. I raced over, as quickly as I could, and saw the chakram firmly imbedded in the trunk of a tree. On the ground, lay Gabrielle. I quickly checked to see if she was bleeding, and thanked the Gods she wasn't. She seemed shaken, but only said these words: "Put that thing away, now."

Meekly, I did. I buried it in the saddlebags. No prized, signature weapon was worth losing Gabrielle. And we never again spoke of the incident again.

There were more tiny adventures, better and more hopeful, all short patterns in what was quickly becoming our intertwining life, but I hardly remember them. I just remember that Gabrielle was by my side at each and every one.

Whenever I felt unsteady, she was there to lean on. Whenever I felt myself slipping into the person I once was, she was there, her hand reached out and pulling me from my darkness. Whenever I wanted to feel loved, well, she was there for that too.

It was never physical, though as much as I craved for it. To feel her warm skin under my fingertips, exploring the most private parts of her beautiful body with my tongue, and above all, to finally become one with a being made of light and love. But alas, it was never to come to fruition.

But telling her I loved her, having her say it back to me, and falling asleep with her safely tucked away in the pocket of my arms was good enough for me.

And then it all came crashing down.

For over two years I had never touched a weapon. I had stopped my foes with my wits and brains, often leading them into their own demise. But then, on our travels, Gabrielle and I discovered Darphus. For once, I knew **exactly** where he was.

What started out as a normal adventure, stopping a town into waging a civil war within itself, soon turned into something I could not have fathomed. The town was split down the middle because Darphus's army had ran through them a few weeks before. Some stood up to the warlord, others cowered to his whims. Now those that stood and those that cowered were fighting amongst themselves. And what was even more amazing, a young boy even claimed that he knew for a fact that Darphus's army, the same one that was once mine, was in a town not too far away from this one. The problem was that that town was too small to hold the supplies they needed and would be leaving soon. I could catch up to them, if I left right at that second.

Almost immediately my anger blinded me, revenge boiling in my blood. This was a man who humiliated me, a man who broke me, a man who passed me around to his men like some whore, a man who thought so little of me that he sold my beloved chakram for a few extra dinars! Not even Gabrielle's calming touch could soothe me. I was ready to pick up a sword and kill him, thus unraveling all the hard work that was put into establishing myself as an agent of good.

I bought the sword.

I bought the leathers.

I bought the armor.

And I found a long buried and forgotten object: My chakram.

Gabrielle brought me back with one sentence, "Xena, if you do this, kill that man- as mean and tyrannical as he is… I will be forced to leave you."

I suppose it says something that my love for her outweighed my hatred for Darphus. I sheathed my sword and mounted the horse Gabrielle and I purchased a while back, Argo. We left the area. Gabrielle told me she was proud of me. But I wasn't proud of myself. The man degraded me, stole my army and now spread the very thing I fought against.

But my love for Gabrielle kept me from going back and putting him out of the worthless existence he called a life.

We traveled away from Darphus and his men, and settled in for the night in a neighboring town. We stayed at the local tavern. While Gabrielle slept, I kept my eyes peeled wide open, staring out the window, waiting. I didn't have to wait long. Even in the dead of night I caught sight of my old flags waving off in the distance. Darphus and his army must've been coming to take over the town and claim it as theirs. I must admit, this was what I was hoping for. This was why I led Gabrielle to this particular town. I knew it would have enough supplies for a warlord to be drawn to it like a bee was to honey.

"You're going to kill him."

I turned around to see who had spoken to me in such a saddened whisper, but I already knew who it was. The moonlight kissed her face beautifully. How I envied the moon at that moment.

"Yes." I answered plainly, turning my attention back to the window, watching as the small group of men widened. They were getting closer.

"You can't."

"Gabrielle I can't…" I looked down, closing my eyes as I griped the curtain tighter, "I cannot do what you are asking. He hurt me. A lot. He must be punished."

"I know but if you do this, you will go back to who you were."

I turned around, losing sight of my anger as I growled, " _And_?"

"And if you do that…" Now it was her turn to look down, "… you won't have time for me anymore."

I bit my tongue, contemplating this. A life without Gabrielle was painful to stomach. "Fine." I nodded, grabbing her straight out of our rented bed, "Let's get out of here."

We hopped on Argo and rode out of town that night, slipping into the shadows.

I thought we were safe. I was… incorrect in that assessment.

I suppose that in the last town we were at, Darphus must have learned that the rumors were true: I was alive and an agent for good. And what was supposed to be _me_ hunting _him_ , turned into _him_ hunting _me_. It didn't take a wise man to tell me that the traitor wanted to finish the job. Once again, my stupidity, pride and bloodlust cultivated into putting Gabrielle at risk. Yes, I own that. I messed everything up.

We made it to another town, and then another. But each time we made it, Darphus men came riding in right after. I had assumed it was coincidence. I didn't want to acknowledge the truth, and the truth was that we were being stalked.

By the fourth town, I begged Gabrielle to leave me, to save her own life, but she refused. She told me adamantly, "My life is yours!" I was so shaken at the prospect of losing her to that monster that I wasn't sure if she was the bravest person I've ever known or a fool. It didn't matter. If she was brave, I admired her all the more. If she was a fool, then she was my fool.

Together we fled to yet another town. It was here where I learned an awful truth, one that I cannot fully accept yet.

When we arrived, it was early morning. The sun was barely breaking the horizon, and our eyes, myself and Gabrielle's, were darkened from lack of sleep. Still, we rode in on Argo, and instantly requested an inn to recuperate. I'll never forget the inn keeper's face when I asked for one room. He seemed unconcerned. But then Gabrielle asked me a question, and when I responded, the inn keeper stared at me. I gestured toward Gabrielle, "She was just wondering if there would be any hot baths." His eyes glazed over to where Gabrielle was, and widened slightly.

What was he looking at, I wondered. He acted as if he never saw a girl before. I turned over to Gabrielle, noticing her weak smile and uncomfortableness. I snapped my fingers in front of the inn keeper's face, "Alright, stop looking at her."

"Who?" He asked, looking at me as if I had three heads like Hades's pet dog. I snatched the key, rolling my eyes, "Who do you think?"

And with that, me and Gabrielle made our way to our room.

We took a quick bath, more of an 'in and out' thing. And no, I wasn't implying we did anything dirty. Anyway, we quickly dressed, knowing Darphus would crop up at any moment. I decided to go to the tavern, needing a stiff drink while Gabrielle opted to sleep. She looked adorable, crawling under the gigantic covers. I almost teased her that I was afraid I would lose her in them. But I didn't. I simply shook my head and chuckled, and walked out into the hall.

Even when she wasn't trying, my little bard could make me so happy.

As I walked passed the inn keeper, he gave me hesitant wave, complete with an unsure smile, "Goodbye miss… and friend of hers!"

The customers all turned to look at me, saw I was by myself and then looked back at the inn keeper.

'That guy', I thought to myself, 'Is nuts.'

I walked over to him, shaking my head, "My friend is upstairs, sleeping."

"Oh." He gulped, scratching his chin as he looked toward the direction of the room skeptically, "She sleeps?"

"Of course she sleeps, she's only human." I muttered. Seeing the look of surprise on his face, I leaned in, murmuring so I wouldn't embarrass him in front of the other customers, "Look buddy, I think you need to lay off the hooch. It's making your mind a little wonky."

"Lay off?" He repeated, his jaw slacked, "I've never tasted a drop in my life!"

"A man who's never drank a lick of ale in his entire life?," I smirked, slapping the counter with my hand as I walked backwards toward the exit, " _Riiigghht_ , and I'm a virgin."

I then made my way to the tavern. There was a woman who owned the establishment, a thin woman with green eyes. I suppose she noticed me staring at her too much, because she soon made her way over to me, cleaning a mug with a dirty dish cloth, "Can I help you?"

Before I could stop myself, I told her, "You have beautiful eyes."

She raised an eyebrow at this, looked me and down, sizing me up, before asking me, "You're a warrior, aren't you?"

I looked down at my goblet. It only held goat's milk. Since I've been with Gabrielle, she made swear me to stop drinking. I took a sip of the milk, admitting, "No. Not anymore."

She looked into the contents of my drink, nodding, "Yeah… I can't think of a single warrior who prefers milk over a real drink."

I thought of Gabrielle.

Smiling, I told her, "My tastes are more refined now."

She must have seen my smile on a few others before me, because she leaned in, smirking, "You got someone, dontcha good looking?"

I tried to hide it, but I couldn't help it. My smile actually grew bigger. The bartender nodded, smiling herself, "Out with it, what's the name?"

"Gabrielle." I said, my mouth sliding off to one side as I goofily buried my hand over my head.

"A woman, huh?" She smirked, finishing wiping off the mug before pouring a strong one to a man who sat a few seats to my left. She then shrugged toward me, "Bet you two get lots of stares when you walk into a town."

"Tons." I mumbled, thinking about all of them at once.

"Don't sweat it." She said, her hand brushing the air, "Some people are just funny that way."

"Like the inn keeper." I murmured. Her eyes widened, "Antoni?"

I told her about what happened, to which she laughed, "The poor man has the worst vision. If it's not pressed against his face, he can't see a thing!" Hearing this made everything suddenly make sense. She explained that she once caught him trying to checkout a room to a bird, claiming he thought it was a woman's hat.

I felt a little bad for the guy now. I thought he was nuts, just to find out he was near-sighted. I knew that I had to apologize to him when I saw him again… Gabrielle would want me to do that.

"So," She started, eyeing me, "You a reformed warrior or something?"

"Something." I nodded, and again my thoughts went to Gabrielle.

"You look reformed." She told me, pouring another drink to another man, this one seated a few seats to my right. She pointed out my leathers and armor, "You look too natural in that to be some wanna-be. It," She eyed me all the more, " _suits_ you. But the drinking milk, the softness of your hands… you haven't been in a truly bloody brawl in a while. You gave it all up for your woman, didn't you?"

I shrugged, taking another sip of milk.

She sighed, turning away from me, "If only more could be like that." She then just as quickly turned back to me, "So, if you have her, what are you doing telling me that my eyes are beautiful."

"Simple," I smirked, "Your eyes remind me of hers."

"She suffers from the curse of the Emerald diamonds, huh?", she chuckled, pointing at her own eyes. I couldn't help but say, "More of a gift, I would say."

Before she could respond, obviously taken back by the compliment, I asked her seriously, "Look, there's someone bad who is after me. He's from my past… I suppose it's literally haunting me, and I don't want Gabrielle to get hurt. Do you think you can, uh, keep her hidden here? Safe, I mean. And once business is taken care of, I'll come back for her."

She seemed to consider it before nodding, "I'll do it." She then smirked, "Just so I can meet the woman who turned you into a force for good… Xena."

I blinked. I didn't recall giving her my name. She then answered the confused look on my face, "There's not too many woman-warriors out there, and even less with a dark past. But there's only one with a tell-tell mark such as the Warrior Princess."

I had to know what gave me away. I leaned in, "What was it?"

She leaned real close into me, smiling smugly, "You have beautiful eyes."

After making arrangements with the tavern owner, I went back to the inn to check on Gabrielle. She was sitting by the small desk area, writing in a scroll. She had several scrolls that she had written in since we began, and I used to joke that the only reason she was with me was because she needed a main character to base her work off of. She told me that I needed more than just her for a supporting cast. I could only say, "You're all I need for a supporting cast. Everyone else would just be the guest stars."

And here she was, jotting down another one of our exploits. I peered over her shoulder, "Which one of our little adventures is it?"

Before I could see a word, she rolled it back up tightly, giving me a peculiar look over her shoulder, "You can read it when it's done."

"I never read your scrolls."

"I knew it! You don't like my writing." She accused, pretending to be hurt.

Leaning on the desk, I looked over to her as I retorted, "I don't like myself." I then took a stray hair away from her face and placed it behind her ear, "And that's all you ever write about. If you wrote about a real hero, say Heracules, then I would read them."

"Ha!" She scoffed, smirking as she rolled the scroll tighter, "Heracules is a myth! Everyone knows that."

"It doesn't matter." I responded, my hand lingering, reaching out as if I was about to pluck the scroll out of her hands, only to then- at the last minute- snatch an apple from the fruit tray that was right in front of her. She didn't move throughout my little episode, as if she knew I wasn't going to get her scroll. But still, she looked as though something was bothering her. I pushed it out of my mind as I told her, "Sometimes Gabrielle, an idea- no matter if it is fact or fiction- can be so powerful, it's all that is truly needed. With that saying, it doesn't matter if Heracules is real or not, because the image of someone who has a drop of mortal blood in their veins, someone who has lost their family, is the same someone who can stand toe to toe with the greatest Gods in all Olympus, then it's all the more inspiring."

I gave her a smile when I noticed she looked rather uncomfortable. I could feel my smile fading from my lips as I asked her, "Gabrielle, what's a matter?"

She looked like she wanted to cry. Her hands clutched onto the scroll tighter to the point that I almost joked that the ink would smear. Her lower lip trembled as she sighed dejectedly, "It's almost time."

I tried to be the encouraging one for a change as I tried to smile, joking, "Time for what? To party?"

She shook her head, her lips pursing, "No…" She then looked up at me, looking so very sad, "I saw you today with the bartender woman. She's the first one in a long while that has made you smile."

"Besides you." I smiled, watching out of our window in from the corner of my eye for Darphus's army.

"Besides me." She agreed, although sadly. She then added, "You seemed to like her a lot."

"She reminded me of yo-" I stopped. Was this Gabrielle's way of telling me that she felt insecure in what we had together? Immediately I assured her, "I like you a whole lot more." I added more gently, "You know I love you."

She nodded, looking guilty, wringing that scroll of hers tighter, "I know. I never should have let you fall in love with me."

I was a little taken aback by the statement. I stood up from the desk, crossing my arms over my chest, almost demanding, "What is that supposed to mean?"

She turned around from her spot by the chair, "Xena, I'm sorry… for what I have to tell you."

Was it possible she had been cheating on me?

"I have a secret to tell you. It's about me, who I was before I came to you."

I let out a small breath of relief. So she wasn't cheating, at least there was that.

Her lips twisted awkwardly. Her hands wrung that scroll so tight I thought it was going to rip in two. Her eyebrows twitched in concern. Finally I asked her as softly as I could, "Just tell me, Gabrielle."

"You'll hate me once I do."

"It can't possibly be that bad." I reasoned, "What? What is it? Were you married?"

She shook her head slowly.

"Were you a famous playwright who had the privilege to meet Julius Caesar and his Empress of Rome?"

Her head continued to shake, this time faster.

"You are an Amazon Queen?" I asked, half joking.

Her head stopped shaking. And then she said it, "You need someone who is real."

"You're real."

"No," she grumbled, looking absolutely miserable, "I'm not."

I sank to one knee, taking her hands in mine and slipping that blasted scroll away from her fingers, "Gabrielle, you are the most genuine person I know."

She burst into tears.

"Xena, stop it! You're hurting me, and yourself. Just… just please stop." She hiccupped in between tears.

"I won't!" I shot back twice as fast, "I love you with everything that I am. Nothing will ever change that."

"You can't be _with_ me!" She shouted, pushing me back with so much force that I almost toppled to the ground- almost.

I stood up, trying to piece together her sudden outburst, "What're we talking about?! Are we talking about sex? Is that what this conversation is about?"

"It's not just that!" She shouted, jumping to her own feet, her hands wildly waving around, "It's _everything_!"

I must had been so wrapped up in the fight that I didn't hear the pounding of the drums before, but when I did, I realized it was too late: Darphus and his men had arrived.

"I know what you're planning to do, but you can't, Xena!" She pleaded with me, begging me, "Don't take me to that woman in the tavern! Don't go after Darphus alone!"

The drums were growing louder. My ears had a funny whistling noise in them. Her cries and begs were just too much! I was like an animal trapped in a cage. She went on and on of how I was making a mistake, and I kept pacing around the room, trying to figure out what to do.

Boom Boom

"Xena, listen to me!"

I walked to the other side of the room, trying to think. I had to. Rearrange. My. Scattered. Thoughts. And… how did she know what I was planning to do? How could she see-

BOOM BOOM

-me?

"You need to acknowledge the truth!"

I walked around the bed, my head aching unbelievably. Why wasn't this woman letting me _think_ straight?!

 **BOOM BOOM**

"Gods be damned Xena! Stop tuning me out and LISTEN!"

"Gabrielle, _**shut up**_!" I snapped, feeling the pulsing rhythm of my neck veins protruding.

 **BOOM BOOM**

 **BOOM BOOM**

 **BOOM BOOM**

And there we stood, shocked at my outburst, letting the drums of danger march dangerously close to us. In a quick desperation, I grabbed her hand in mine and quickly slung what little valuables we had into a bag and threw it over my shoulder. Before she could say a word, I told her flatly, "You are going to that tavern where you will be safe- and that's final!"

She bowed her head, softly saying, "That isn't a good idea."

"It is for me!" I told her, yanking her out the door so fast she barely had time to grab her staff. We ran down the stairs of the inn, hardly noticing that we weren't the only ones running for their lives. Several of the inn's customers were running to their rooms, scooping up children in their sloppy arms and doing their best to not show their extreme panic. Antoni, the inn keeper, was hiding under the counter, doing what looked like praying.

I tugged Gabrielle out the door and we ran across the dirt road and straight for the tavern. Gabrielle called out to me, "Xena, if you do this… if you challenge Darphus-"

"I'm not challenging him!" I shouted over my shoulder, fear making my voice louder than what I intended, " _He's_ hunting _us_! There's a difference this time, Gabrielle! I don't want to kill him, but I see no other way to ensure our safety!" We made it to the entrance of the tavern where I paused enough to look her in the eye, trying to control my shaking hands when I held onto her arms, "I walked away, Gabrielle. I _ran_ away! But this monster is relentless. If you feel you must leave me because of what I'm about to do-"

"No." She cut in, nodding, "It's different this time, the circumstance I mean. You don't want to fight, but you have to. It's alright. I will be here when you come back… but Xena, you have to accept the truth of what I am."

The drums were deafening and we were exposed. I nodded, "I do. You're the love of my life."

She seemed like she was going to have a nervous breakdown right in front of me, "Oh Xena, please! You are not _listening_ to me."

"Then tell me later." As I pulled her into the tavern, I noticed a few drunks sprawled out on the tables.

I kept tugging her to the back of the tavern where I reached a large, wooden door. I desperately knocked on it, and I could feel Gabrielle shaking her head behind me, "I'm touched that you think I need this, but I don't."

"You can take care of yourself?" I guessed, half smirking even in this hour of crisis. At that moment, the door opened and the tavern owner peered out. Behind her I could make out several women and children, hushing one another and fearfully looking out the door at me. Before I could say anything, the tavern owner asked me quickly, "Where is she?"

I raised my eyebrow.

I turned around, and there stood Gabrielle, holding her staff and looking miserable.

"Right behind me." I responded, pointing my thumb over my shoulder.

And then the drums stopped. Off in the not-so-great distance, I heard Darphus preaching to his army about why they were there, what I looked like, and what to do after they found me. I probably would've cared to listen in, if I wasn't so confused as to what exactly what going on with the tavern owner and her puzzled expression.

The tavern owner raised an eyebrow herself and stepped out of the tiny room, gently closing the door behind her.

"Where is she again, Xena?" She asked me extra slowly, eyeing me with an emotion resembling pity.

I turned around again. Gabrielle hadn't moved one inch. But her expression somehow even more depressing than before.

"She's right there!" I said in exasperation, pointing right at her. Finally I told Gabrielle, "Say something, Gabrielle."

She said only two words, "I'm sorry."

"What?" I breathed out before turning back to the tavern owner. She was still staring directly at me. Finally she said, her voice dropping, "I don't know how to tell you this but… _there's no one there_."

As soon as it was said, I heard Gabrielle burst into tears.

The tiny pin pricks that rolled down the back of my neck, touching my shoulder blades before finally cascading down my back were ice cold.

"What do you mean 'there's no one there'?" I questioned, grabbing Gabrielle's arm and practically shaking her, "She's here!" I dropped the bag of scrolls on the floor and half shouted, "These are her scrolls!" I then raised the staff over my head before plunging it to the floor of the tavern, "This is her staff!"

"I thought it was yours." The tavern owner admitted softly, "For your legs… you're crippled."

"I'm not crippled!" I barked, my anger pulsing through me. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she see? What was she seeing?! I told her with new determination, "My legs were badly injured about two years ago, but Gabrielle fixed them! Look!" I gestured down.

And then I saw.

Where two perfectly good legs stood, were two mangled ones. My right leg was slightly twisted inward, forcing the tip of my toes to point in a 45 degree angle toward my left leg. My left leg stood awkwardly, partially inverted, as if my knee had been popped out. I found myself unable to stand properly on my own… so I leaned on the staff.

"When you entered the tavern, I noticed you hobbling… I assumed you had you're walking stick in your room, since most of those with bad legs carry the device."

"No…" I whispered, staring down at my legs in silent horror, "Gabrielle fixed them. She fixed everything that was wrong with me…"

The tavern owner tried to reach out to me, "Xena, I will hide you-"

"No!" I snapped, unwilling to believe in any of this. I wobbled over to the scroll bag. I awkwardly bent down and dumped all the scrolls on the ground, telling her, "Pick them up! Read them! It's all Gabrielle ever does besides talk- it's write!"

Hesitantly, the tavern owner obliged. She picked up a scroll and opened it. Then she did the same thing with another, and then another. Finally I demanded, "Why aren't you reading them out-loud?!"

She sighed, looking pained as she told me, "There's nothing to read. They're all blank." She then turned the scrolls over one by one, showing me empty parchments.

Behind me, Gabrielle's sobs thickened.

I turned around to confront her, only to catch sight of our reflection in a dirty mirror behind the counter of the bar. I could see my reflection, crude and muddled… but there was none of Gabrielle. It was if she wasn't there. And then it hit me all at once, all out of order, like a flood of repressed memories:

" _Gabrielle," he started, nodding to me, "Um, I don't know how to quite put this, but- uh- I'm afraid you've been duped."_

" _Duped?" I repeated, oddly calm as I chewed on a slice of buttered bread._

 _He nodded, looking every bit as uncomfortable as I should've felt, "There is no town down that road. It's a dead end… it leads to a cliff."_

Gabrielle's scream, " _My life is yours_!"

Next I imagined the inn-keeper, Antoni, _What was he looking at, I wondered. He acted as if he never saw a girl before. I turned over to Gabrielle, noticing her weak smile and uncomfortableness. I snapped my fingers in front of the inn keeper's face, "Alright, stop looking at her."_

" _Who?" He asked, looking at me as if I had three heads like Hades's dog. I snatched the key, rolling my eyes, "Who do you think?"_

My own thoughts echoed in my head:

 _The next time I awoke, I had a massive headache. And, it was night. Struggling, I sat up, wanting to see if I could find the girl. Instead, I found nothing. The girl was gone, the campfire was gone, the warm cloth was gone, the food was gone… I must have imagined her._

My conversation with the tavern owner:

" _A woman, huh?" She smirked, finishing wiping off the mug before pouring a strong one to a man who sat a few seats to my left. She then shrugged toward me, "Bet you two get lots of stares when you walk into a town."_

" _Tons." I mumbled, thinking about all of them at once._

I vividly recollected all the times I was with Gabrielle out in the towns, and how each time we collected stares. Now I knew why… I alone collected the stares, as I spoke cheerfully to myself.

 _I stared at her out of my good eye (I couldn't really open my other one). Who was this girl? She seemed too happy to be real._

In real time, I felt my shoulders slump forward, the truth so horrible to bare I had to support myself on the counter. I could feel myself breaking down. The only friend I had ever truly known, the love of my life, the only person in the entire world who loved me, was all in my head.

I couldn't stomach the thought that I was so pathetic that I had to invent an imaginary friend at my age, because I was that alone. I was that unloved. I couldn't help the strangled scream that escaped me as I thought of Gabrielle. Those eyes, that smile… that little crinkling thing she did with her nose as she smiled…

" _Ha!" She scoffed, smirking as she rolled the scroll tighter, "Heracules is a myth! Everyone knows that."_

" _It doesn't matter." I responded, my hand lingering, reaching out as if I was about to pluck the scroll out of her hands, only to then- at the last minute- snatch an apple from the fruit tray that was right in front of her. She didn't move throughout my little episode, as if she knew I wasn't going to get her scroll. But still, she looked as though something was bothering her. I pushed it out of my mind as I told her, "Sometimes Gabrielle, an idea- no matter if it is fact or fiction- can be so powerful, it's all that is truly needed. With that saying, it doesn't matter if Heracules is real or not, because the image of someone who has a drop of mortal blood in their veins, someone who has lost their family, is the same someone who can stand toe to toe with the greatest Gods in all Olympus, then it's all the more inspiring."_

 _I gave her a smile when I noticed her looked rather uncomfortable. I could feel my smile fading from my lips as I asked her, "Gabrielle, what's a matter?"_

 _She looked like she wanted to cry. Her hands clutched onto the scroll tighter to the point that I almost joked that the ink would smear. Her lower lip trembled as she sighed dejectedly, "It's almost time."_

The ball in the back of my throat tightened. I felt physically sick. I wanted to vomit.

 _She turned around from her spot by the chair, "Xena, I'm sorry… for what I have to tell you. I have a secret to tell you. It's about me, who I was before I came to you."_

 _Her lips twisted awkwardly. Her hands wrung that scroll so tight I thought it was going to rip in two. Her eyebrows twitched in concern. Finally I asked her as softly as I could, "Just tell me, Gabrielle."_

" _You'll hate me once I do."_

I gripped the edge of the counter with so much force, a piece of it chipped off on my hand. My knuckles were so white they could've been mistaken for pure bone. Hot tears ran down my cheeks, dripped all over my armor and leathers. I must've looked like a blubbering idiot to the tavern owner, but I didn't care.

… My whole world was too busy falling apart.

 _Her head stopped shaking. And then she said it, "You need someone who is real."_

" _You're real."_

I collapsed on the ground, shaking. Even in this distressed state I could see Gabrielle, kneeling next to me like an angel, tears streaming down her own cheeks as she tried to touch me, to soothe me. For the first time ever, I felt nothing.

It was as if I was being touched by air.

" _No," she grumbled, looking absolutely miserable_ …

It made the massive ache in my chest burn all the more, because to feel her would give me some small comfort. But I was denied even that.

And then the love of my life faded right before my very eyes. She was heartbroken, and the look in her eyes would forever haunt me.

" _I'm not."_

I felt truly alone.

The tavern owner immediately came to my side, pulling me beside her and whispering in my ear that everything was going to be alright. But I was too numb to care. The love of my life was a figment of my imagination. A beautiful figment created by a sick and lonely mind. I had never been so empty… so broken.

Before the tavern owner could pull me inside the small room, assuring me that I would be alright, I pulled back from her. I yelled something at her, but I can't remember what. It was incoherent and angry. I grabbed my walking stick, yes- I had accepted it as mine, and I wobbled out of the back door of the tavern, leaving behind a barrel full of empty scrolls.

I whistled for Argo, hearing Darphus from somewhere, "I am only here for Xena! Once you give me her, I shall leave! But, if you do not…" I heard a woman screaming. As Argo rushed toward me from seemingly out of nowhere, I saw the sky turn dark, and soon red from the direction she came from. My nose tingled. It was smoke. Darphus's men must have set fire to something.

I grabbed a hold of Argo's reigns, throwing the walking stick as far away from me as I could. Awkwardly, I mounted the horse. As soon as I had myself settled in the seat, I head Gabrielle's voice, "I know what you're thinking. You can't go after him! He must have over seventy soldiers!"

"Fine by me." I mumbled, ignoring her presence as I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth, signaling Argo to hurry to the spot of the burning building.

Argo was trotting, and just as she was about to pick up speed, I saw Gabrielle step in front of the horse. Instinctively I tugged on the reigns, signaling for Argo to stop.

"Xena, what you're doing is suicide! If you're gonna go after him, do it the way I taught you with the other warlords! Use your mind! Use your wit! Set up traps!" She shouted, pleadingly.

I simply stared at her. Now that I knew she wasn't real, I didn't feel anything toward her. Well, besides pain. And betrayal. Knowing what she was, it changed the way I saw her. But still I couldn't help the ache in my heart. I small part of me still loved her. I would always love my Gabrielle. She was perfect in every way suited to me, an idealization of the human connection I had lost in my tenure as a warlord, the very embodiment of the tiny bits of goodness that I still held within my tired self. And she was like that, because I created her like that.

"That's why you didn't want me to face him… face to face." I gestured towards my pitiful legs, "You knew the truth."

Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks, but she wouldn't let them. Or was it me who wouldn't let them? It was all so confusing now. And I didn't care anymore. Not about her, not about me, not about the "greater good". I didn't care about a damn thing.

She nodded slowly, "Yes. I knew. I used your love for me as a way to tether you to life… and when he chased us, I was hoping to walk you through the traps we usually set up…" She then hiccupped, a tear finally wrangling free from her left eye, "But Xena you can't fight over 70 men in hand to hand combat!"

I turned my face away from her, letting my features turn into stone.

Numbly, my lips moved, "Go away."

She shook her head, still crying, "I won't!" I narrowed my eyes at her, just wishing she would leave. It was very difficult to look at her, especially now that I knew the truth. She croaked, throwing her hands toward the fire, "You'll die!"

I gave her a hollow reply, "Let me."

And with that, I clicked my tongue and Argo dashed in a golden flash toward the fire, running straight into Gabrielle. Before my eyes she disappeared into a cloud of nothingness. I pressed on Argo to go faster, making her reach a speed I never thought possible. I heard the woman's screams out in the not-so-distant corner. We rounded it, the smoke stinging my eyes but not my throat as I let out a cry that I haven't used in over two years: My warrior's call.

It got the men's attention, even Darphus's. He stood in front of a burning grocer's cart, his thin hand knotted in a crying woman's hair, his boney finger's pulling the hair strands out of the woman's skull. He walked toward me, dragging her along with him.

I signaled Argo to stop. I didn't want the woman to be hurt just because I had a death wish.

"So," He smirked, "The little Warrior Princess decided to play after all!"

"Let her go." I instructed.

He pretended to think it over, "Mmmm," then he grinned, "No!"

In slow motion I saw the knife press against her neck. A familiar fire was seized in me, stinging the corners of my skin. I reached behind me and yanked out my sword with a loud swish that sliced the air. Argo took off, and I charged straight at Darphus.

The idiot laughed, "You fool Xena! You can't possibly beat us! Look at the odds!" He laughed, "It's one against an army!"

"It's an army vs **ME**!" I shouted, relished in the fact that I now had an outlet for my rage, and my embarrassment.

And then it all came out, my darkness, every inch of it rolling off me like a thunderstorm. I must have struck down about twelve men before one of them was smart enough to trip Argo's front hooves, forcing her to crash onto the red sand.

I clawed myself from under the horse, swinging my sword around so fast that I sliced one man vertically while I tore the other one in half horizontally. Both looked down at their reddening gear, choking up bubbles of blood. They both dropped to their knees, one crying out for their mother.

I grabbed one of their swords, I forgot which one of them I took it from, and I used both my sword and theirs to help myself stand up, almost like crutches. And as soon as I was upright, I plunged my sword into a boy of about maybe seventeen. The shock in his eyes was evident. I suppose he thought he would live long in a warlords camp. Now he knew different. But it was also too late.

As he slipped out from the blade, gasping for air, his eyes bulging out to the point where even I could see their tiny veins, a man snuck up behind me and pierced my right calf. That hurt so much I nearly toppled over in searing pain.

Instead I dug one of the swords into the ground to help me keep steady- don't ask me which one, I wasn't paying attention at the time.

With one sword, I fought three men simultaneously. I recognized one of them as one of the twenty-two men who took me after Darphus stole my position. I had a secret pleasure in slicing his neck open and watching him gag on his own blood. Then I switched sword purposes. The one that was keeping me steady became my fighting weapon while the one that I was using to fight kept me steady. The action was so quick the other two didn't see it as it happened right before their eyes. And soon one of them had no left eye to see out of. That one jumped back, screaming, shocked and afraid. The other one must have saw his fate because he dropped his sword and ran the other direction, half of the army calling him a coward as more descended upon me.

And I'm not kidding. I heard someone shout, "The bitch can't take all of us!" And they all came at me. It was then when I wished that I had listened to Gabrielle and planned this out as I had before in our exploits.

I felt a warmness on my side before I felt the penetration of the sword in my body. And then I felt another one on my abdomen. And then another one by my chest, near my clavicle. And another, and another, and another… Perhaps I should have felt cold, but instead I felt warm. At first I thought warm water was being thrown at me, and my mind briefly went back to the warm baths Gabrielle and I used to share. We would splash in the water, and I would wrap my arms around her, never wanting to let go.

I opened my eyes.

Darphus was kneeling over me, a smug smile on his face.

"I killed the woman you were Tartarus bent on saving." He giggled, flicking my old chakram back in my face before pulling it back, teasing me. I don't even know how his dirty hands got ahold of it. Must've been somewhere in the struggle.

With his grey drool seeping over his mouth and onto my bloody chest, he told me, "Xennnaaaaaaa, Warrior _Prin-cess_ , I want my beautiful face to be the last thing you see before you die."

"No." I gurgled through the blood.

"No?" He raised an eyebrow at this. I then finished my thought, even through the pain, "You're one- _cough, cough-_ ugly mother fucker."

Before he had time to respond, I mustered every last ounce of strength I had and reached out for the chakram. But instead of pulling it toward me, I pushed it into his chest, burying it in him. It sliced his armor neatly, dividing his chest. His dark eyes were in shock as he stared down at me.

"Darphus…" I coughed out, "I-I'm- _cough, cough_ \- gonna be the last thing you see- _cough_ \- before Hades c-condemns youuuuuuu."

And I was.

I shoved it in him another two inches for extra good measure, only ceasing when I heard a nice crunch. I suppose it spoke loads of the loyalty the men had for him- not one lifted a finger to stop me from killing their leader. I guess the saying really is true- there's no loyalty among vermin. But then again, I should know that lesson better than most.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head when he collapsed on to me, knocking the only air I had straight out of my lungs.

Once again I found myself believing to be knocking on Hades's door. Once again I was proven incorrect. A new leader took ahold of the group, his name was Draco. He let me live, my breath barely making it out of my lungs. The bastard… he preferred I suffered.

What he didn't count on, and neither did I, was that green eyed tavern owner was searching for me with her small torch in the dead of night.

She had a handful of men with her. They could've been her friends, friends of her father's, her brothers, I don't know. All I know is that they rolled the stinking corpse of Darphus off of me and hauled me to a wagon and took me back to town.

As we rode back, I went in and out of consciousness, but I knew one thing for certain: There was another body riding with me. It was the woman I couldn't save, her neck hanging open from ear to ear like a second mouth.

When I again stirred awake, I was in a room. It was small, warm and though I was in pain, oddly comfortable. The shades were down, but I knew it to be light since tiny rays of what I was sure was a beautiful day outside peeked through the corners of the blanket, it was a makeshift curtain.

I tried to lift my arms, but I couldn't. I couldn't feel my legs. I couldn't even feel my own face. Everything was so numb.

The tavern owner soon came in, preparing hot water and such. However, when she noticed I was awake, she took a wooden chair by from the tiny fireplace and sat next to my makeshift bed. She stared at me for what felt like a long while. I wanted to ask her what she was looking at, her curious expression beginning to gnaw at my nerves, but my jaw was too heavy to move.

"You," she began finally, "are an incredible woman."

I felt the pain in my forehead as I raised my eyebrow. I didn't feel very incredible at the moment. I felt like a centaur's ass.

She shook her head, her dark hair falling over her shoulders from her sloppy bun, "You suffered a mental breakdown. You discovered the woman you based your reform on was something created by your own mind. And you still went out and fought Darphus and his men. You challenged over 70 men, Xena. You managed to kill around 40, including Darphus, despite your obvious physical handicaps. You suffered so many injuries, I was sure you would die within the candlemark… but here you are. Three days later, still alive."

I finally got my jaw to move, "I don't die easy."

"No," she smirked, "You don't."

"Is," I took in a long, raspy breath, "the town alright?"

"Minor damage." She replied, looking down, "Two buildings burned down, but we have suffered much worse."

"Have you now?" I gurgled.

She nodded, her eyes oddly distant as she stared at me, "Yes."

I knew the answer, but I asked anyway, "By who?"

"You." She nodded, before gesturing around, "Welcome to Potedia."

If it was possible, my heart squeezed itself so tight I could've died right at that moment.

"Potedia?" I whispered, thinking of Gabrielle again. Was I dreaming of her while I was under? Possibly, I was alive, wasn't I? I wouldn't be surprised if I had been, seeing as how she is what pulls me out of darkness and death. No matter how imaginary she is to some, in a way, she will always be real to me.

The owner nodded, holding out her hand to me, "I don't believe I actually told you my name." I found myself leaning closer as she told me, "Lila."

It was an unusual name, but then again my name- Xena- literally meant 'different.' It fit me perfectly. I was always different from the other girls, and boys… basically everyone I ever knew. So, who was I to judge on a name?

"Nice name." I commented. She merely shrugged, "I'm no Gabrielle, but hopefully in a weeks' time I'll have you walking again."

It was a high bar to set. I think she did it on purpose. A high goal, but a goal none the less. And goals suggested of one thinking out the future. So, I guess she was presuming I had one.

Sweet girl.

I noticed the walking stick in the corner of the room. I let my eyes fall away from it.

She then patted my hand before leaving me alone again- save for the company of my own thoughts.

"She's very nice." I knew that voice by heart.

"Let me see you, Gabrielle." I croaked, turning my head to one side. And just like that she appeared out of thin air, still in that blue peasant dress, still with those long blond locks, and I still had the urge to reach out and kiss her.

Standing awkwardly, fiddling with her fingers with her mouth hanging to one side adorably, she chanced a look at me. I took the opportunity to question her, "We are in Potedia… why?"

"You wanted to come." Was her shy and simple response.

Even though it didn't answer my question, I asked her, "Why aren't the townspeople trying to kill me?" She must have known how much it hurt my esophagus and jaw to speak, because she told me, "Use your thoughts. I can hear them."

I was skeptical, but she reassured me, "It's alright."

So I wondered why the townspeople hadn't finished off Darphus's job or let me die. Gabrielle responded, "They know you've changed. Though they have not forgotten, they do reluctantly forgive you. After all, you just saved them from Darphus."

But he was after me to begin with. They were put in danger because of me. A woman died because of me.

"… They don't know that. When the drums sounded, they reacted in terror, obviously he has passed through here a time or two for them to react in such a way. So, to them, you saved them."

I didn't.

"In a way, you did."

When we were traveling, we came across a prophet named Eli. He preached of a God who created man in his image. At first I thought it was amusing, and I told the prophet that this 'God' of his must've had a poor image. Now I find myself wondering whose image I created Gabrielle from, because it certainly wasn't mine. And I couldn't resist the temptation to ask her.

What are you?

"I'm Gabrielle."

No, seriously, what are you?

"… I'm lots of things. I am your guilt. I am your subconscious. I am your selflessness. I am your goodness. I am your love."

Why are you here? What is your purpose?

"To help you."

Explain.

She twisted her lips before resigning to a sigh. She sat next to me on the bed, and took my hand in hers. I swear I felt it. She felt so real, it hurt to think that she wasn't. "Xena," she started, "At one point, you and I, we were one in the same. We laughed, we played, we loved others. But something happened that night, when father wanted to murder us. I don't know what it was, but suddenly, inside, we broke."

Broke? How? Why?

She shrugged her shoulders, "I don't know how myself. One moment we were one, and happy. We were complete. The next moment, you were playing in blood and I was pushed out momentarily."

Pushed out?

I leaned closer to her to get a better view of her face.

Her face contained massive amounts of sorrow, as if she herself was in pain while recalling it, "I was placed in this dark place. I was scared. And then I realized I wasn't part of you, but something other, something foreign from you, and that's when my fear gave into trepidation. And I _felt_ you with the blood… if I were human, I would have thrown up. And what was worse? Mother didn't even notice you were doing it."

At the same time, I thought and she spoke the next line: _It was as if she didn't care about us. Father was after us, but she comforted our brothers._

Briefly, Gabrielle ad I exchanged looks before she continued, "For a long while, I was shapeless. I was only substance and emotions, nothing truly real. And when you became a healer, I hoped that you would heal us and make us one again. But then the pains of what mother wanted, of what society wanted, it was too much. You pushed me away again. And when Cortese came, you were lost and I forgotten."

I remembered the incident well.

"When Lyceus died, something unexpected happened."

What?

She softly smiled down at me, "You gave me eyes. They looked so much like his, wide and green, but with a few minor changes. And I saw what you saw, and we both saw Lyceus upset at what you had become."

Was he in my head too?

"I don't know about that, but your brother will always be in your heart."

What gave you form?

"The girl from Cirra."

Callisto.

"Yes." Gabrielle nodded, "When she said she forgave you, you snapped- you just didn't realize it then. The pain was so great, you weren't sure you could continue on… you didn't have the faith in yourself to do the things you subconsciously felt could not be done. So, you reached deep inside yourself for me, but your mind was still sharp, so even though you felt me, you couldn't see me. You wouldn't let yourself."

What made me see you?

"When your men turned on you, your mind was in a state of desperation and haze. It made it that much easier for you to accept me. Guilty about Callisto and her older sister, you gave me blond hair such as hers and made me her sister's age. Guilt of your past made you place me in Potedia, the first town you ever ransacked."

What of your name?

She smiled a little, "Levin's and Eli's God had many angels… among them Gabriel. I suspect you named me after him."

I doubt it. I'm not religious.

Softly she peered at me, as if sizing me up, "There are stranger things…"

And the voices in my head? I never realized it before, but when Gabrielle came, the voices left. I was sure there was a correlation between them and her appearance. She affirmed it.

"Yes," She started out, "I was once part of that, but no longer, and no more. And I helped you heal yourself, so now you have peace from them."

What made you a bard?

"You. You used to love hearing stories as a child, and my stories- though old and well known to you, brought you a level of comfort that you hadn't had for a couple of decades."

Why did you lead me on a path of goodness and virtue? This isn't who I am. I'm… (I forced myself to think it) I'm evil.

"Yes," She nodded before replying with a sly smile, "Because truly evil souls have little blond bards running around in their heads."

You're being funny.

I could feel myself smirking despite the pain and seriousness of the topic.

"I'm being cute." She giggled, leaning so close to me I smelled the faint hue of strawberries. Such a scent had me aching for her to be real. She then added, "And you, my proud and bull-headed warrior, are not evil. You've made a lot of mistakes, and have done many unatonable things, but I know the real you. I've seen it. I've felt it. And deep down, you just want to be loved."

I felt the tears stinging as I said out-loud, "No one loves me."

"I do." She whispered, taking her hand in mine, "You are everything to me, Xena."

"But," I swallowed hard, a tear sliding down my cheek, "You're not real."

"What is real? Everything you felt with me was real. You did feel real happiness at least."

I did. Those were the best two years of my life. And it hurt to know that it was spent entirely by myself.

"She cares about you." Gabrielle finally admitted, looking over at the door where the tavern owner had gone out from, "She wouldn't have searched for you if she didn't."

I had a choice: The tavern owner or Gabrielle. I didn't even give it a thought.

"I don't want her. I want you." I confessed, stroking her hand.

It was a hard confession to make, but it was the truth. If I had to choose between reality and Gabrielle, I would choose Gabrielle. And in my defense, she was prettier than reality anyway. And even like this, knowing what she was, at the end of the day, when all my anger had subsided, all I had left was my love for her.

"But like you said," Gabrielle mumbled, staring down at our interlocked hands, "You need it be real. And she can give you things I can't. She can offer you things…"

"I want you." I said more firmly.

And I did. I wasn't ready to give her up. Don't ask me why, but I wasn't ready to live without her. I did however seemed capable of wanting to die without her, but in those last moments with Darpheus, when I thought all was lost and the end of my tortured journey was up, I thought of Gabrielle. And suddenly, I had strength, just enough, to win.

I had reached deep inside the depths of my soul, and did things I did not think myself capable of, because of her. But then again, why should I be surprised? It had always been like that, hadn't it?

"Xena," she offered me a sad yet soft smile, "You're being foolish. You can't spend your days prancing around the countryside of Greece with a figment of your imagination as your sole source for company." I knew she said the words, but deep down, I also knew she secretly wanted me to. She didn't want me with that tavern owner, though she said the words to ease my mind. I don't know how I knew, but I knew. Gabrielle and I, we were connected in that way.

"Yes I can." I smirked, "I'm crazy. I can do lots of things with that excuse."

She gave me one of those smiles, y'know? One of her smiles, her special ones. It was one that said, 'you really are loony' and 'I just don't believe you' and 'I love you' all rolled into one. And my heart no longer ached. I felt better. My tired soul was finally at peace, and it could only ever be with her.

I felt her brushing my bangs out of the way with her forefinger, whispering lightly, "I'm crazy about you too."

My chest tightened, and then I felt a lightness go through me, reaching the ends of my fingers and the tips of my toes. I briefly wondered if I was dying.

She stroked the side of my face, whispering, "Not yet, my love."

And I just had to wonder, how would I know if I died? A horrid thought passed through me: What if I was already dead? What if all this was some sort of illusion I made up? What if, in reality, my body was still in that damned field?

Suddenly I was panicked, but Gabrielle quickly soothed me, "This is real, Xena. It's alright."

How could I tell?

"The pain." She promptly answered, "If you can feel pain, you are alive."

And pain I did feel- tons of it.

I slowly relaxed, and Gabrielle rewarded me with a soft smile, telling me, "Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

I thought back on my life.

Everything wasn't exactly fine. It appeared I had spent my entire life alone.

"You are not alone." She told me, her eyes willing me to believe it. And I did. I guess it didn't matter what Gabrielle was, for if she told me the world was round, I would believe her. And in that moment I knew, I would love her. Despite death, despite life, despite myself, and despite others, I would her forever.

That was the moment I no longer felt homeless. I now had a home, though it was more unorthodox than anything anyone in anytime in any history had ever encountered. But, then again, I never much cared for what others thought of me anyway.

As time forged on, I was able to get better. I just had to keep my mind focused on Gabrielle, and my little bard's confidence that I would grow stronger.

And true to her word, Lila had me walking, though it took longer than a week. And as soon as I was able, I grabbed Gabrielle's scrolls and the walking stick. I buried my chakram, sword and armor in the village, atop a small hill, and I rode off on Argo.

And yes, Gabrielle was there right behind me, her arms wrapped around my waist.

I knew that Lila was confused as to why I departed so suddenly, but I couldn't stay there with her. I had much to do to gain the forgiveness of my fellow men and women. I had to atone for my past deeds still. And I wanted to do it with the quill, as I once heard that it was mightier than the sword. Perhaps I could heal again, I did have the knowledge and knowledge is meant to be shared. I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but I was going to, with my lovely Gabrielle by my side.

We even discussed the possibility of going to Chin and meeting the renowned Loa Ma. I won't deny that I had a small hope that she would correct my legs with her infamous pinch techniques.

I know you think I'm crazy, but in all honestly, I'm happier this way. I know it's unpractical, and perhaps very unhealthy- Gabrielle herself has told me so, but I just can't bring myself to leave her. We are one now, together again, as it was in the beginning. We are whole. And if I leave her, we will not be. But, my audience, this is where I leave you, with images of me with my beloved and what we're setting out to do, together, righting wrongs and preaching peace.

We want a better a world, and I want to create one for her.

But please, do not feel pity for me. I do not deserve it. I have everything I could possibly want.

I am loved.

My mind is, for the most part, clear.

For the first time in a long time, my heart knows the path of my future, and is carefully setting the bricks for it.

My soul is whole, as it was always meant to be.

And the best part is that I am no longer alone. For in Gabrielle, I have found what I have always yearned for: A Close and Personal Friend.

"It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane."

― **Philip K. Dick** , **VALIS**


End file.
